


Interlude in Lorien

by LeastExpected_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Interspecies, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-02-04
Updated: 2002-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:49:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26478244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeastExpected_Archivist/pseuds/LeastExpected_Archivist
Summary: By Pythoness.Gimli has a conversation with Merry and Pippin while the Fellowship stays in Lorien.
Relationships: Gimli (Son of Glóin)/Legolas Greenleaf, Merry Brandybuck/Pippin Took
Kudos: 7
Collections: Least Expected





	Interlude in Lorien

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Amy Fortuna, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Least Expected](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Least_Expected), which has been offline since 2002. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Least Expected collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/leastexpected/profile).
> 
> Disclaimer: This is written solely for entertainment, and is in no way intended to infringe upon the rights of J. R. R. Tolkien or his heirs.  
>  Feedback: Feedback always welcome!  
>  Story Notes: This is a prequel to "Diamond Between Wood and Stone"--this conversation is referred to in it. The hobbits are responsible for the ending--I intended to cut 'em off earlier.

As Gimli entered the pavilion he caught a sudden flurry of movement out of the corner of his eye, but when he turned he saw only Merry and Pippin, the former seated on one of the low couches set for use as beds, with Pippin seated on the ground by his side. 

"Good afternoon," said Merry. 

Gimli grunted a response and threw himself onto another couch. 

The hobbits exchanged a glance. After a minute or two Merry cleared his throat. 

"I think," Gimli muttered, apparently in reply, "that I have had enough of elves." 

"I've certainly had more of them than I'm used to," said Pippin after a pause, "but I hadn't yet set an upper limit on the exposure." 

"It seems," the dwarf continued obliviously, "that I am owed apologies from elves on all sides, with precious little hope of getting them." 

"Ah, Celeborn, you mean," said Merry knowingly. 

"Yes, for one," said Gimli darkly. "After that noble welcoming speech all I received was an explanation that carried no weight and an injunction to forget." 

"Well, you're not likely to get a better apology, not from any great lord," said Merry. "I daresay that's more apologizing than he is used to, though it's probably good for him. Don't you get the feeling that--well, that things have been made pretty easy for Celeborn?" 

Gimli puffed out a weak laugh and sat up. "Well, in his case perhaps it is jealousy on my part," he conceded. "There is one elf of whom I have not had overmuch, nor is it likely." 

"Poor Gimli," said Merry, rather lightly. "But if you must fall in love with elf-queens there is nothing for it but long endurance. I fear Galadriel shan't come with us, no matter how you might implore her." He smiled impudently. "Though I would help you carry her pack for her." 

Gimli gave a snort of laughter at the idea. "Never, alas," he agreed, smiling wryly. "No, she is a thing beyond my desire, as the blue of the sky is beyond even the loveliest sapphire. She warms me like a fire and dazzles me like sun on snow, or moonlight on water, yet I could not say I desire her--almost the idea insults her memory." He scowled down at the grassy floor, lost in thought. 

Pippin, who had sat listening absently with his head thrown back against the couch whereon Merry sat, looked up in mild interest. "Then what is wrong with you?" he asked. "I had thought your sighing and tossing in the night was pining for love. Doesn't Elvish food agree with you?" 

"Nay, Cousin," said Merry gravely, though his eyes twinkled. "I think romance is indeed blooming under our very noses." 

Gimli scowled fiercely at him but Merry was undaunted. "It's Legolas, isn't it?" 

Gimli somehow managed to keep scowling despite a look of alarm and surprise which passed across his face. "Yes," he said after a moment's hesitation, "if you mean that he is another elf who owes me an apology--agreeing to bind my eyes without my knowledge, and then growing angry when I objected. Does that not seem to call for an apology?" 

Merry regarded him with bright interest and a shrewd expression on his round face. "Hmm, yes. But come, Gimli. He was doing his best to bargain so that you would not be barred from Lothlorien. As for his anger, surely he was alarmed when Haldir and the others had marked you for a bull's-eye! It was only that, I'm sure. Afterward he was ashamed, and did not want to approach you." 

Gimli was quiet for a moment, struck by this idea. "Well, right enough, he hasn't," he muttered at last, skeptically. "He has barely said two words to me since the blindfold was removed." 

"The way you have been scowling and turning your back whenever he approaches might have something to do with that, of course," Pippin said, reasonably. 

Gimli did not dignify the remark with a reply. He lay back on his couch and crossed his arms in sullen thought. 

Merry continued innocently. "He is very fond of you, Gimli, you know." 

There was a dead pause this time, as if Gimli was not merely being quiet but imposing silence. Into this stillness he eventually spoke. "What," he asked in a carefully controlled voice, staring away from the hobbits as if the side of the silken pavilion was of special interest, "do you mean?" 

Pippin sniggered, and Merry cuffed him gently. "Just that, Gimli--that he is fond of you," he said. "Don't you recall that in Moria, it was he who ran back for you, when the rest of us were too busy saving our own skins? Haven't you noticed--But then I suppose you haven't: I've seen how he watches you when you aren't looking." 

Gimli sat up again and turned to glare at the hobbits. "And how is that?" he demanded ominously. 

"Oh, come," Pippin said, grinning. "The secret is out, Gimli. And it's his fault, not yours, if that worries you. You have been obviously on his mind since the Mines. Actually, I had no idea that his interest might be returned until just now, in spite of what I hear of dwarvish appetites." 

"Dwarvish appetites!" Gimli sprang to his feet, his voice a suppressed roar. "What do you think you know of _dwarvish appetites?_ " 

"Bilbo used to say... why... because, well, you see...it was really just to me, maybe not even to Frodo." Merry took a long breath. "We know about Bilbo and Balin, Gimli, and he told me because--" 

"Because he knew about _us,_ " Pippin finished softly. "Or at least about Merry, who was a rather early bloomer, you know. And Merry told me when--after--" 

Gimli let out a sudden bellow of laughter. "You two!" He exclaimed. "A fine pair of swordsmen without a sheath between you. How is it I did not notice!" 

"Because, Master Gimli, we have been the souls of discretion," Pippin said primly. "And to be honest, you have interrupted our first moment of privacy since we left Rivendell. But we shall not grudge it to you, if you have worthy gossip." 

"I did not know hobbits played such games." 

"They don't--or at least it is assumed they don't," Merry said with a rueful grimace. "It's something of a scandal. Bilbo found me out one day on one of his rambles. I was, well--" 

"He was hiding in a bush, 'practicing kissing' with Folco Boffin," Pippin offered, cheerily. "Who has never been seen since, and who probably hasn't stopped running." 

"Ah, my dreadful secret." Merry looked appealingly at Gimli and shrugged, though his cheeks had turned a darker shade of red. "I fear it is true. Except for Folco disappearing, of course--but he would never practice' with me again, thanks to Bilbo. 

"He did run, but I thought there was no point--Bilbo had seen me, and I thought it was better to have it out then and get it over. I expected him to be terribly angry with me--Bilbo, I mean--and thought there would be some dreadful lecture and perhaps worse. But he just sat down on a stump nearby and took out his pipe, and we had a chat. He was so pleasant and so natural, and after awhile I found myself talking about things I hadn't ever spoken of to anyone before, and eventually he said, 'My lad, all of us must keep secrets, and all secrets have weight. When yours gets too heavy, just come see me and we'll talk it over until it's bearable again.' Then he added rather absently, 'It's all right, because it's one we share.' And we shook hands and he went on his way. I don't think I even understood quite what he meant until I'd thought about it a bit. But it made life much easier afterward." 

"Especially after I happened along, I suppose." Pippin looked up at Merry, twisting his head back over Merry's knee to do so. 

Merry pushed a hand through Pippin's curls, smiling down at him. "No thanks to you, of course, dear cousin. You were quite a quandary to me. Far too young and so terribly indiscreet." 

"Oh, so *I'm* the indiscreet one? That must have been some _practice_ you got in with Folco, Meriadoc, because you seemed quite the expert that evening after Camellia Longburrow's summer party. Who was it who first--" 

"Bilbo and Balin," Gimli interrupted, hastily. The way the two young hobbits looked at one another had begun to embarrass him. "Well, that is one mystery solved. Extraordinary thing." 

Merry looked back at the dwarf, who had reassumed his seat on the edge of the divan, but his fingers remained twined in Pippin's soft hair. "So we stand revealed. Tell us, Gimli--is my guess right? Is it Legolas who is troubling you?" 

Gimli's brows drew together again, and he took a long breath, considering. Such open discussion seemed unnatural to him, making light of weighty matters, but he knew well enough by now that it was a hobbit trait. "Well--" he began, but he never had to complete the confession. 

A ray of pale winter sunlight fell across the floor of the pavilion as the curtain which served for a door was drawn aside, and Legolas stood in the gap, peering in with cocked head. There was a pause, as if there were hesitation or diffidence in his manner, but it may be he was startled merely by the three pairs of eyes turned fixedly in his direction. 

"Ow," said Pippin softly, and rubbed his head. Merry had jerked his hand away, with several strands of Pippin's hair still wrapped around his fingers. 

"I come seeking a companion," Legolas said, stepping in. "I have been walking through this land, and I found that I wanted another to whom such loveliness was new to share the sights with me. The folk of Lorien are pleasant, but I thought of the Fellowship; we have shared much, and our hearts are heavy all alike, and could stand the same cheering. Will any of you come?" 

He looked at Gimli as he spoke, but the dwarf frowned down at the floor. 

"I don't think we shall," Merry answered after a moment. "Er, Pippin has a headache. We were just going to rest a little. Why don't you go, Gimli? We can't send Legolas off alone, you know, and we really did want a bit of quiet." 

Gimli gazed back at Merry for a moment, then rumbled a little. "Well, I'll come," he said grudgingly. "I could stretch my legs." 

Legolas smiled. "They are not so long as they might be, it is true," he said, "but I will be glad of your company.--Ah, Gimli, I beg you, do not frown--it was but a jest which missed the mark. If you will walk with me we may talk, and perhaps we may learn to understand one another better. Will you not come?" 

Gimli rose, brows still drawn low over his eyes, and walked out of the pavilion. "I shall, if you will mind your jests," he said curtly. "Let us go." 

Legolas turned and followed, the hobbits forgotten. They heard the elf's fading voice for a moment, saying, "I am sorry for my foolish words, Gimli--and there are other words of apology I would speak to you..." then all was silence again. 

"Well," said Merry. Another mystery solved, I suppose. Where were we, Pip?" 

"Catching pneumonia." The younger hobbit raised himself from his seat and plumped down on the couch beside Merry. "The ground is damp. A headache indeed! Look--have you made a bald patch...?" 

He lowered his head to show his injured scalp to Merry, who clasped him over the ears and kissed the proffered crown. "There," he said. 

Pippin settled against him and they lay back together. "It's not so private here as we thought," he remarked. "Perhaps we should try to find someplace outside." 

"We'll do very well here, as long as Frodo or Strider or someone doesn't come stomping in now to complain about his love-life. The trouble with outside is, there's no telling what's a private place and what's some busy Elvish thoroughfare in a quiet moment. I think I'd rather be caught out even by Boromir than by some strange elf, don't you?" 

"I suppose. I'd rather not get caught at all, though. And I won't get on my knees again, though I'm sure you'll be disappointed..." 

"I think the couch is quite long enough. Tell you what--we can use this cover, and then if anyone comes in, we can say we're--" 

"Say we're _what?_ " Pippin snorted. "Looking for lice? Bobbing for apples? Practicing hiding?--" 

"Tired of being interrupted," Merry said severely. "Hurry up--it'll be lunchtime soon, and we _shall_ be cut short, and it will your fault. I won't have it." 

"Oh, yes, sir, aye, sir! Here Ah go again, sir, forgettin' my place, like--mmf--mmm..." 

Merry made sure the kiss was long enough to break Pippin's sprightly mood. "You were," he whispered when they drew apart. "Your place was further down. You were about to unlace my breeches, I think." 

"Ah, yes." Pippin's hand fumbled at the ties. "If I can," he added softly. "They seem to have gotten rather tight." 

"Without sauce," said Merry sternly, although it took an effort. 

"You're mistaking me for Sam again. There." 

"Never in a thousand years, Pip--ow! Sam's hands are warmer." 

"What! And you would know how?" 

"Shut up--shut up, shut up. Oh, that's better..." 

It was Aragorn who approached the pavilion, wanting an oddment from his pack. Something caught his ear as he stood outside, and he listened for a moment before he turned away, deferring his errand, with a raised brow and a wry smile on his lips.


End file.
